Least We Forget
by Your-Gothic-Angel
Summary: Gilbert was about to call Mattie's name again but when he saw what was on the cross he stopped, he slowed down to a walk and placed a hand on the Canadian's shoulder. Their on the cross were the word: "Least we Forget" The Great War.


God im sooooo tired Dx But I wanted to get this in before the days over, so here's my little Remembrance Day One-shot, sorry if it sucks, im half asleep here ;A;

Sunlight streamed through the window waking the sleeping ex-nation. Groaning he turned over sprawling his arm over a now cold spot on the unused side of the bed. This made him open his eyes and confirm that the bed was, yes empty of his little Canadian. With a sigh he sat up, wiping the sleep from his eyes he looked at the clock on the bedside table. 10:45, ugh, he slept in, his little birdie must already be at work now. With a huff he got up and stumbled around the house, getting ready to face the day.

The time he was finally dressed and what not he went to the kitchen to see if his little birdie make him breakfast before he left. Sadly, there was no food ready for him, but a fresh pot of coffee, so with haste he quickly grabbed a cup of the stuff.

With another sigh he leaned on the counter in front of a window which looked out to the Canadian's huge backyard, it was almost as big as Russia's. With a blissful sigh the Prussian took a sip of his coffee, which was another thing the Canadian got him hooked onto, then looked out to the beautiful landscape of hills distant mountains, beautiful lakes, a lone Canadian in front of a cross, vast forests- wait, back up, lone Canadian? Gilbert looked closer out the window, yup, that was Mattie sitting out there by himself, and wearing what looked like to be an old brown uniform.

Pushing off the counter Gilbert rushed to the backyard. Mattie was supposed to be at a world meeting wasn't he? Or at least work. "Hey Birdie! What are you doing out here by yourself?" the early November winds bit around his cheeks and toes as he ran out to his little Birdie.

Matthew looked surprised to see Gilbert running towards him, only wearing a 'God Save the Queen' t-shirt, a black and white scarf and black skinny jeans. He quickly looked at his watch, 11:00, it's time. Turning away from his partner he looked back at the cross and closed his eyes, he looked like he was praying.

Gilbert was about to call Mattie's name again but when he saw what was on the cross he stopped, he slowed down to a walk and placed a hand on the Canadian's shoulder. Their on the cross were the word: "Least we Forget" The Great War.

The Prussian stayed silent, joining Mattie in his moment of silence, somehow Gilbert's hand moved off of his shoulder and into his hand. Then after what seemed like hours Mattie started to hum a tune. At first Gilbert couldn't name it, then he remembered it was the song that was played on the trumpet at a soldier's funeral, the like the one they went to on February 10th.

When the song was over Matthew struck a salute, hand to his forehead he began to sing in his beautifully quiet voice.

"In Flanders fields the poppies blow  
Between the crosses, row on row,  
That mark our place; and in the sky  
The larks, still bravely singing, fly  
Scarce heard amid the guns below." His face looked sad as he recited the well know poem, his eyes were dazed as he saw some far off battlefield that he fought in along with his 'family'.

"We are the Dead. Short days ago  
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,  
Loved and were loved, and now we lie  
In Flanders fields." Gilbert had now joined Matthew in the poem, both singing, both remembering what tragedies The Great War had given them, such as the countless deaths and injured, and a Great Depression.

"Take up our quarrel with the foe:  
To you from failing hands we throw  
The torch; be yours to hold it high.  
If ye break faith with us who die  
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow  
In Flanders fields." Still hand in hand, Matthew released his salute, pulled a single poppy from one of the many pockets on the jacket and tossed it gently at the cross, whispering a final few words before he and Gilbert walked back inside to have breakfast.

England looked around the meeting room, something was wrong, normally someone walked in with America, but today no one was there, and America was acting quite today, and the loud Prussian wasn't here either. He looked over to the American to ask him what was wrong when he noticed the small red flower pinned to his bomber jacket. Realism dawned on him and he looked away, now looking at his own blue cornflower.

"Least We Forget"


End file.
